The Silencing
by Chris000
Summary: Shrouded in secrecy for centuries, the Space Colony ARK was a place where experiments could be carried out without notice, and weapons could be developed without the restraining hand of the Overland. However, all this was set to change when a single scientist became a threat to his government, and the secrets within are set to be pried from cold dead hands.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This story was actually done on request. A reader asked me to offer my interpretation of the Space Colony ARK invasion in the Chaos Chronicles universe. We all know the ARK was a major point in Shadow's backstory, though it had remarkably little actual substance to it outside of his games, and part of the comics. This is how I'm going to present it. Expect differences, as the CC takes place in a heavily modified Sonic universe. This is a crossover universe, though that aspect does not come into play for about fifty odd years, meaning this can be placed into the simple games category.**

 **Anyhow, please enjoy as always.**

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Chapter 1

The Great Debris Field  
Space Colony Codename ARK  
3185

Deck Officer Samuel Pertz found he had very little to do this morning. Indeed many mornings he felt he had very little to do. Part of his responsibilities within the long range communications office was to establish contact with freighters bound to the ARK from Mobius orbit, though these were few and far between. Every officer, every technician, and every scientist importantly of all, were stressed that the greatest asset of the ARK was its sheer secrecy. Nobody knew it existed, which was incredible considering its size. Upon his arrival almost three years prior, Pertz wondered just what sort of technology could render nearly two kilometers in radius worth of rock and technology, for all intents and purposes, invisible, but didn't think much of it, considering that knowledge of such state secrets without prior clearance was punishable by death.

Many things on this rock were punishable by death.

So it was here where he and three other men worked tirelessly monitoring the wavelengths for anything out of the ordinary. The vast majority of time it was simply debris on a far orbit around Mobius that played with the scanning equipment, reflecting signals and creating false positives on the scanner, and giving them all a big jump. Such was a danger of being within the Great Debris Field - the massive remains of what had once been the Broken Moon.

However, Pertz and his men occasionally did get what they expected - coded transmissions that contained keywords and numbers that signaled an approaching tug or freighter. A space colony the size of the ARK utilized an incredible amount of resources daily, and it was a challenge making sure that they were self-sufficient. However, there were things that simply could not be created on-board, necessitating a call back to MegaCentral. Today was one of those days.

Pertz found the signal on his scanner and shifted the spectrums between radio, x-ray and finally thermal to confirm that he was in fact looking at a spacecraft and not rocks in the surrounding field. Satisfied in his assessment, he switched his cameras to the visible spectrum and fixed them on the point of bright white in the starless black - a sunny day up here as always.

He could make it out clearly - a conical, almost cigar-shaped craft with several spinning sections on it that no-doubt contained fine goods, liquids both consumable and necessary for the scientists' experiments, and cargo containers that were red, green, and blue. The craft appeared to be slowing down slightly with bright blue blasts of thrust appearing at its front.

Pertz brought up the docking schedule to confirm that indeed there was an incoming flight today. He nodded to himself as he saw that the time slot was taken up by a Taurus-4 Class intermediate tonnage freighter. Visually the craft was that of the Overland, but one could never be sure. A slight snarl crossed his face when he brought up the possibility that it could be Mobian. It didn't seem to bear any markings of one of their countries, but he hailed the craft regardless.

"Flight Tau-Eta-One-Four-Niner-Niner-Seven, this is ARK Airspace Command, please come in."

The craft continued to slow, though it did not respond to the hail. Pertz stayed calm, though he licked his lips ever so slightly before tapping the transmit button again.

"I say again, flight Tau-Eta-One-Four-Niner-Niner-Seven, this is ARK Tower. Please copy my last."

The silence continued. He was about to call in the defense positions be activated before the radio crackled.

"F _light Tau-Eta-One-Niner-Niner-Seven copies ARK Tower, radio took a hit coming through the field. Some..._ " the sound trailed off for three seconds in a squall of white noise, " _...if you don't mind_."

Pertz groaned and rubbed his nose with thumb and forefinger. That was just great. A damaged radio system would mean that guiding in the freighter would be more tedious. While the pilot could potentially visually steer himself in, it was considered far safer to communicate with the crew to establish two-way communication. He checked all of the docking ports within the bay and discovered a few where they could park this thing. He lit up Dock 12 and fired up the guidance lights. No, he decided. He would override the small freighter and bring it in himself. It was something that he had been trained for along with the other deckhands up here in the dockmaster's control panel. He called up the remote access program that he frequently used on approaching craft.

"Flight Tau-Eta-One-Niner-Seven, please open your strongest COM port and boost signal gain on your craft, override on control systems will immediately commence. Sit back, relax, and stand by to dock." Pertz said. "Oh, I'm also going to need your 14-412 on broadcast." he added, referring to the standard bill of lading that all cargo craft were required by the Adjudication of the Overland to broadcast upon arriving at the ARK. This was a legal and physically defensive way of covering their asses. Fail to produce, and your vessel would be impounded upon docking.

Silence filtered through the radio and Pertz was about to hit the broadcast button again, believing that it was the faulty radio communications on the shuttle. This was going to be damned annoying. He was about ready to send a security team down there to make sure that none of the other systems on that ship were harmed. Something was up here and he wasn't sure he liked it. However, those fears were allayed when the vessel came back on the frequencies.

" _ARK Tower, stand by for 14-412 broadcast on general communications frequencies. You should be receiving coded transmissions now; please acknowledge_."

The pilot's voice was without emotion, but part of Pertz wondered if the son of a bitch at the stick enjoyed pissing the dock officer off. He checked the incoming signals and found the one broadcast by the freighter. He quickly opened it up and ran the decryption software on the packet. It immediately resolved itself into a document with the authorization of the Office of Transportation, a pretty standard affair. According to this bill of lading, Tau-Eta-One-Niner-Niner-Seven was carrying mostly perishable foods and several thousand gallons of fresh drinking water, doubtless were most of the gross tonnage would have been coming from. Cargo containers were slowly rotating around its central axle-like structure. Alright, the craft was airtight, metaphorically speaking.

Pertz nodded and fired up the remote access console, switching his display to the forward camera of the Taurus-4. When the feed fully resolved itself, he saw the craft approaching the entrance to where the docks were - hidden rather well he had to admit, behind several doors made to look like the outside of the rock.

He checked the feed and discovered he had an excellent link with negligible lag; less than one thousandth of a second.

Pertz took the freighter in. When he approached the Ark's outer doorway, the rocks drew away slowly, revealing the entrance to the docking ring. He pushed the craft forward, the camera vibrating slightly as the engines fired for perhaps a half second. The dock officer resisted the urge to look out the window as he could see the craft he was controlling slowly come towards him. It was almost like driving a radio-controlled car or airplane; he did this so often that it didn't have the same feel to him anymore. His was just a job and nothing more.

He was off on his approach. He tapped a few nubs on the joystick, firing the small RCS thrusters on the port side; small puffs of grey propellant misting in the air. The doors closed behind the Taurus-4, sealing it within the docking bay.

Pertz glanced around and saw the other freighters that came up from MegaCentral. For a brief second he wondered why he never saw any larger ships, like the Lost Million's colony vessels, eternally locked in orbit around Mobius. Those ancient vessels were practically sacred. All sides respected them, and in many cases it was one of the few neutral places the Kingdom and the Overland could actually meet without fear of reprisal. Nobody would ever be so stupid as to attack the cradle of both their races; the ships that had brought them here from their now-mystical homeworld - Earth.

But his mind returned to task. Now the Taurus-4 was approaching too quickly. He quickly tapped the nose thrusters and his view clouded as the control surfaces burned; vapor and propellant blocking the camera's view.

Twenty meters out now. It had taken nearly fifteen minutes of careful thrust and brake maneuvers to bring the spacecraft closer and closer to its mark, but now it was all gravy from here on out. Just above the docking clamp was a small target, painted like a crosshair. The camera's own overlay was made to match with that symbol. Now things got delicate. Pertz decreased the sensitivity on his joystick and leaned closer to the screen. This wouldn't actually make him see any better but it was a habit he had picked up in college and had never gotten rid of it. He actually felt himself sweat a little bit. As long as he didn't do something stupid and open throttle...

Ten meters. Five. Was that crosshair off? Maybe just a few centimeters? He'd have to back it out and try again, wasting more time while readjusting...

Contact. The docking clamp caught the freighter gently. Three limbs extended and held the craft in place, gently easing it into a position that caused the least amount of strain on the structure.

He let out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding. It was always a process of nerves bringing in a starship like this.

"Flight Tau-Eta-One-Niner-Niner-Seven, ARK Tower reads contact all-clear. Please acknowledge."

" _ARK Tower, Flight lead acknowledges all clear. Powering down engines. Thanks for the ride_."

Pertz cracked a small smile. He looked down at the craft and actually saw the pilot in the cabin glancing up at him and giving him a solid thumbs-up. Though the dock officer couldn't see it behind the mask, he believed that the pilot was grinning in a friendly manner as well. He leaned back in his chair and took a gentle breath.

"Flight lead, stand by for final docking arm attachment and for decontamination on entry. Welcome to ARK."

" _Understood. Thanks again; we were really edging to get here_."

That made sense. A busted long range radio, goods that had a shelf life, and the all important H20 were all things that anybody needed to take into consideration. He logged that the flight had been successfully brought in to the docking ring, signed off on it, and passed the cargo manifest over to the groundside boys. A few drones would take them off their mounts and gently deposit them on trams specifically designed for loading into the ARK's main manifest bays. From there, it would be unloaded at the crew's leisure. Pertz' responsibility was to get it all through the door. What the scientists decided to do with his shipment was their problem. He congratulated himself on his expertise, dreamed of a coming promotion, and then swiftly went back to monitoring the long range communication channels.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The many corridors of the ARK were much the same as any other with sterile white metal plating covering thousands of square meters of hallway. In the ceilings, blue lighting fixtures shone brilliantly, creating an effect of peace and calm that was proven to increase productivity among the scientists. Days like these with experiments running at all hours made this design decision a rather appealing one.

At the far end of the Section Delta main corridor, a lift door opened with a hiss. Two overlapping airlock-like doors slide aside to reveal a man surrounded by a posse of white-jacketed men and women reading off reports, estimates, and experiment logs. The man in the center took it all in stride, as if he could parse meaning from every individual. His glasses flashed with every single light fixture he passed, though his eyes remained forward-facing, only gently regarding the corridor. He said nothing, though occasionally nodded his head when a figure was read off to him.

"Doctor I need you to sign off on this experiment log. Sectional head says as the chief researcher..."

The scientist grabbed the pad and retrieved a stylus from his coat pocket, spiraling it on the tablet before handing it off. In a gruff voice he said, "Tell the sectional head that I am pre approving environmental changes for Subject 27 and Subject 18. That's what he wanted."

"Very good, sir." the other man said before falling away like a leaf off a tree.

Yet another came up to take his place, this time with a requisition request. Once again, the head researcher signed off on it. He had far more important things on his mind right now, yet the throng continued to stick to him like fish chasing after a lure. He found it quite annoying.

"Ladies and gentlemen, right now we're going to be entering a restricted area." He announced, turning his head long enough to make some sort of eye contact with the crowd. "Unless you have Level One clearance, I'm afraid that your requests, reports and for that matter anything else will have to wait."

It wasn't a bluff. Up ahead, A pair of Centurions watched the group approach, yet the head researcher was the only one who could produce an ID card that would satisfy the soldiers. The others, realizing that they had officially been blown off, dejectedly walked away, slowly muttering to each other that they should get their clearance upped.

That was just as well. What was beyond this point was far more important to worry about the small things like putting his signature on a piece of paper or asking if they could perhaps take another scanning electron microscope out from storage because some idiot decided to have his coffee too close to it. These were things the department and sectional heads could handle, not him. As the head researcher his attention was focused on advising those higher positions. He had real requests to make, such as radioactive isotopes, nuclear fuel, containment technology, and supercomputer technology that kept the ARK running.

The centurion called him over. The researcher sighed yet again. He knew that this man must have remembered his face by now. He must have. However it was the same song and dance every time he came to Subject Zero. Part of him liked the attention to duty, but it was just a few minutes less than he wanted with his most important research. He took the ID card and brought it closer to the soldier. The laminated card was still attached to his coat by a small thin string.

The other man looked it over. He took a device off his belt and held it over the card. The device, a code scanner, danced up and down the card. The head researcher grumbled as this process ground on. Within moments however, the scanner chirped and the screen glowed green. The centurion glanced up and nodded. "Alright Doctor Kintobor, head on in."

Gerald Kintobor smiled without warmth and replaced the ID card. He sidestepped the guard and made his way to the door the men were guarding. This door was well built; it was made of the same material that that coated parts of the ARK's exterior. It was a composite metal alloy that was impervious to most forms of personal weaponry. The only thing that could get through this would be heavy weaponry like rocket launchers or high explosives. That was something that Kintobor knew for a fact that he would not allow anywhere on the station at all.

He placed his hand on a palm reader set into the door's frame. It glowed green, buzzed, and the doors slid apart. Yet another layer of security. That was fine though; this one was worth all the protection in the world.

He passed through two sets of airlocks. At each he was required to perform a separate set of tests to confirm his identity. Only ten other individuals were allowed within this chamber: the Chief Medical Officer, a small cadre of his best biomedical specialists, The Chief of Security, Gerald himself, his son Bertram, and one other highly secretive individual. This was something so precious that such measures were necessary.

The final doorway was emblazoned with a biohazard warning. It was simply procedure to do this on board a space station where there was any sort of risk of infection. All the same, it made him seem like he was heading into a quartantine zone. Gerald didn't like this, but there was only so much he could do. He was not the Chief Medical Officer, and that woman's opinions outweighed his own.

The final door gave way, and at once a smell filled his mind. It was the sterile cocktail of disinfectant, hospital air, and a mild stimulant that had been filtered into the air to keep the staff moving. The medical personnel shifted around reaching for medicine, readouts, and printed paper that gave on the minute updates on their charge.

Gerald's eyes immediately focused on the far end of the room. It was a pleasant space, colored bright pink and white, almost like a doll's house. On a brightly colored shelf, flowers of various types overflowed from half a dozen vases. One technician was watering one of these bouquets; her face impassive to the menial task she carried out. Next to this woman and the flowers she attended was a hospital bed, far more advanced than anything that would be in the average Overlander recovery ward or even urgent care center. Within this bed, swathed in a thick purple blanket, was Maria Kintobor.

Gerald quickly stepped around the technicians and made his way to his granddaughter's side. His pulse quickened slightly as she saw her condition. It had not improved much if at all since the last time he had checked in. She was small naturally; a petite little girl with what seemed like miles of blond hair. She was curled up under the blanket, legs tucked in. She lay on her side, eyes pressed closed, and Gerald's heart ached when he saw her eyes squeezed closed. She was in pain; possibly a large amount.

"Maria. Sweetheart." he breathed, quickly leaning over. He brushed aside some of her hair and was shocked to see how pale and translucent her skin was; the blue lines of her veins far more visible than they had any right to be. His heart ached for her. He gave his granddaughter a kiss on the forehead. This seemed to rouse her awake from her pained slumber. One eye opened slowly and a blue pool of light met his own. Soon, the second one opened, and the little girl cracked a smile.

"Grandpa." she breathed.

"That's alright, sunshine." he breathed. "You didn't need to wake up for me."

The girl's weak smile grew just a bit wider. She had dark smudges underneath her large eyes that made them look as if they were sunken into her face. She was like a little angel who had fallen from heaven, and they were trying to nurse her back to health.

Gerald tore himself away and checked her charts, reporting once every time her little heart beat. The pulse was faint but present. Fifty beats per minute, and her blood pressure was low. The EKG was like a small spike on an otherwise featureless surface. The faint heart rate, bruising, quiet and soft demeanor in her voice and movements were indicative of the Neuro-Immune Deficiency Syndrome that had been with her since her childhood, but had only shown itself in the last five years, and even then had become this bad only over the course of a week.

Gerald had wondered just where the disease could have come from in his family. He had scoured the medical records that had survived over the course of the Dark Ages on Mobius back all the way to the Lost Million's original colonist manifests. He knew that Ivan Kintobor, the great progenitor of the illustrious House Kintobor had been a medical marvel. He would have to be in order for he and his family to be guaranteed passage onto the ships bound for what was the believed to be Tau Ceti. No, he had searched every male genetic descendant of Ivan the First, but found no genetic correlation; not one matching case to what his precious granddaughter was wasting away from. It was only recently that he had even thought to search for female ancestors, specifically through Maria's maternal grandmothers.

The research was still on-going, but he found his confirmation. This was something that was beyond his control. A disease native to Mobius; not Earth. There was no medical journal penned by a Human being who had been descended from that world that had even heard of NIDS. The closest that he could discover was HIV and AIDS, and he knew this was not the case for his granddaughter. The patterns of infection would not allow it.

So many questions, Gerald mused sadly. So many questions and not enough answers for the light in his life. He sunk down into the plush chair that he always kept next to the hospital bed. Doctor Helena Maestro, the Chief Medical Officer, came up to Gerald, who held his face in his hands.

"Gerald." she said, gently and soothingly. The scientist stared up at her with expectation. "I just wanted to let you know that we were already beginning to run the immunoblockers on Maria's system. We were thinking of beginning the first transfusions within the hour. We're ready to proceed with this. I just wanted to speak to you on this since you are the... sole guardian of Maria."

Gerald said nothing, but looked away from Maestro. He had heard the rumors about his son Bertram, about what happened to him in MegaCentral. For speaking out against the Party and the Overlord, they had... he couldn't even finish his recollection he was so shaken. He had not left the ARK in months. It had to be fabrication. He vehemently denied the development, though in his heart he knew that it was true, and his son was dead, assassinated by the Sentinels, or perhaps even a proxy to keep their hands clean. Maria was alone in this world.

No. She was not alone. She never would be again.

"I approve."

The CMO pressed her lips into a small line and looked at the man with heavy concern. "Gerald, I need to inform you that while specimen study has yielded results..."

"We've discussed this when we've done those tests, and we've done this when we've run the centrifuge analysis, and we've discussed this when the boy himself was open to this. Yes. I consent to the procedure! Helena please, we don't have much time. We... she needs this."

He wanted his little Maria to say it, that she trusted in the doctors and her family. Even now she watched her grandfather, gripping the pillow in one hand, while heavy eyes looked between the man and woman. Immediately Gerald regretted his tone and how he had spoken.

"I consent." he said calmly. "Maria, do you have anything to add or say to Doctor Maestro?"

The little girl shook her head with a surprising strength and confidence. The technicians began to move towards her in case even this motion would endanger her brittle frame. "Help me get better, Doctor Helena."

"I will try, child." she said. "No, I won't try, I _will_ make you better. Your grandpa has good people helping you." she added at the end, before looking at the elder Kintobor and returning to her work at a desktop monitor.

Gerald felt somewhat comforted by the words. He called over the head of security and said in a soft voice, "Go and let the boy know that we're ready."

"Sir, can't we simply just get the transfusion bags from storage?" The big man asked, whispering in the scientist's ear.

"No, he had to be here. I want her to see him. I think even that will tip the scales."

The officer didn't argue, bit back his response, and nodded once. The man nodded to the medical personnel and strode out of the room. Even if from a scientific perspective, whether or not a person was present in the OR made little difference in terms of procedure effectiveness, the Overlanders were aware that there was simply something within a person that helped. It couldn't quite be explained so easily.

The Chief Medical Officer walked back over to Maria, the soft clicking of her shoes barely audible above the general din of activities. Gerald however was not aware of any of this. His mind had focused on only one thing: the face of his granddaughter. He took her hand in his and gently stroked it with his thumb. He removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, partially to cover his tears, and partially to massage them back into functioning. He had not slept in 43 hours over all of these ordeals, and he was sure his staff had not slept in twenty-four. The procedure needed to go forward.

Doctor Maestro spoke to Maria in a calm and soothing voice, her cherry red lips parting as she asked Maria to raise her right arm. She did so, and Gerald noticed that it almost visibly shook. Possibly from the effort. Her muscles had withered so much over the last few months. He was about to reach over and support her when Maestro leaned in and gently supported the girl's hand. In the CMO's other was a swab that was saturated with a compound; a localized anesthetic that was placed on the inside of her elbow. Once Maestro was satisfied that the area would be numbed, she took the IV needle and brought it closer to her arm.

"Maria, why don't you look at your grandpa for a few moments." she suggested.

The little girl weakly turned her head to look at Gerald, who had a wide smile on his face. "So." He began, "Have you been doing anything fun today?"

"I've been drawing." she said, her eyes glittering against the warm lighting of the room.

"Is that so." Gerald said, leaning in. "What have you been drawing?"

"Today I drew a meadow."

"A meadow?" Gerald asked. "Tell me about it?"

Maria scrunched up her face, as if she tried to remember what it was she had committed to paper. "It was a big open field. There were no fences anywhere, and there were deer jumping through the grass. There was a big sun in the sky."

"Did you put a smiley face on it?" Gerald asked.

"No grandpa!" Maria laughed, though it was more a gasp. "The sun doesn't have a face! It doesn't smile!"

"Some days I think it does." he said. "Like on a warm day on the beach, or in the middle of winter when you think it's cold, and then you look up. You can't help but smile back at it." Gerald grinned to cement the metaphor, and pained on the inside knowing that Maria probably had not seen a real meadow since she was four or five. She had spent over six years on this station. Six years in isolation. That meadow she had drawn had likely been one of her earliest memories of the wide open expanses on the other side of the Great Rocky Mountains in what his ancestors would have called Montana. Today they were called the Golden Plains for the color they turned in the fall.

"Done." Maestro said quietly.

"That took a while." Gerald noted.

"I did it in a moment. I just wanted to let you talk." she smiled. Maestro turned to the IV bag filled with the nutrient solution and opened the valve. "I'll hook the transfusion bag when we're ready to proceed. Right now I just want to deliver her vitamins."

"Of course." Gerald nodded.

"Grandpa." Maria said, looking down at her arm. "Is he coming?"

"I promise you my sweet, he'll be here in a moment." he said, rubbing his granddaughter's forehead. His hand came away damp with sweat. He reached back in and pulled aside her bangs, tucking them behind her ears so that her face wasn't covered. "Just a moment."

He of course had no way of telling while in this suite. It was private for a reason. There were no security cameras and no means of outside surveillance. Security was limited for a reason. He wanted nobody in here that he couldn't trust.

He sat there for what must have been ten additional minute. He checked his watch and saw that if was ten after midnight. It was impossible to tell in space what time of day it was, but the ARK was run with a 24-hour Mobius-based clock so that operations could continue and personnel could get sleep. He noted that given his last check-in, the technicians and Maestro herself had been on duty for almost fourteen hours. They insisted on staying though as Maria was just as precious to them as she was to Gerald. The way one of the technicians had described it, she was almost like the patron saint of the ARK.

Gerald liked that a lot. St. Maria. A beacon of peace to the world.

There was a hiss of an opening door. Gerald wheeled around on instinct as he had for the last few months. Looking over his shoulder had unfortunately become part of his nature. Standing in the doorway was the Chief of Security, his bulky and muscular frame nearly filling up the whole doorway.

"Is he here?"

"Right behind me, Doctor." he nodded. "He's just clearing decontamination."

"Excellent." He breathed. "Take guard opposite the door."

"Sir." the man nodded, as he moved to the other side of the room and took up vigil, not only on Maria and the scientists, but the airlock leading in. Gerald's eyes subconsciously moved onto the projector nestled in a thigh holster. He didn't like that thing being in here, full of others who could not protect themselves, but the Chief of Security had to be armed. It was simply protocol, and there was justifiable cause for weapons to be on the ARK. But not in here. Anywhere but in here. Even though the man could be trusted, as he and Gerald had known each other for almost thirty years, he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable with an armed person in a room as small as this.

There was one more hiss, and the door opened once more. Standing in the open doorway as a Mobian hedgehog. Slender yet well built, standing just over five-five, and possessed a gentle, slightly shining layer of jet-black fur, the color that he had been born with. His eyes were small crimson, though they did not shine with hatred or malice, but anticipation. As soon as the hedgehog locked eyes with the little girl, a small smile split his face, but soon vanished as his brows furrowed in concern.

Gerald regarded the hedgehog, "Come in, son." he nodded.

The men and women in the room looked upon what appeared to be a young man: Project Shadow. Though he had no official name, the entire research staff had taken to shortening that name. He was simply Shadow now. Most of the time, he had been as quiet as one. The ebony quills and fur certainly didn't do anything to dissuade the moniker. Gerald didn't like the name though. The boy deserved better than a research title.

Shadow gently stepped forwards. The simple rubber soled sneakers he wore gently pattering on the deck. Gerald regarded him. The clothing he wore was in pristine condition, almost as good as it had been when he was issued it. Shadow took care of himself and what little possessions he had. Shadow had no belongings; he did not have enough practical knowledge of the world to grow attached to anything, save for Maria.

Maria was precious to everyone, even a being so innocent as Shadow was.

"Doctor." he said, his voice reverential and gentle. It was like a gentle breeze in its volume and smoothness. His eyes immediately diverted to the girl. "Maria."

"Good morning Shadow." the young Overlander said in a giggle. She grimaced as a flash of pain went over her. Immediately, the hedgehog was at her side.

"Are you alright?" he asked, concern coming in waves over his features. He looked at the EKGs, the IV drip, and the state of his best friend's physical state. "Do you need any medicine?"

"She's fine." Maestro said shortly. "Relax. We have her on a mild barbiturate to sedate her."

"It's not working." Shadow said. "Can't you see that? Can't you smell that? She's afraid."

Gerald regarded the boy. Shadow was a Mobian, even if the ARK was his birthplace. There were still things that he could sense that the others could not. "Can you up the dosage?" Gerald asked.

"In her state it might cause her to black out." Maestro said. "Shadow, I'm sorry, but she needs to remain conscious. I need a good pulse."

Shadow wanted to argue, and his eyes darted around, but he said nothing. "OK. Alright." he said at last.

"Thank you, Shadow." Maria said. "I'm fine though. I'm much better now that you're here."

"You mean that?" he asked, his ears ducking back.

"Of course!" Maria said in a soft voice. "You're my best friend!"

Gerald pursed his lips and looked at the floor. "I think we're ready." he said.

"Of course, Doctor." Maestro agreed. "Shadow, are you ready for the procedure?"

"Of course." he nodded. "Of course, Doctor. I'm ready to do anything."

The Chief of Security brought a chair closer to Maria's bed, opposite to where Gerald sat. The gigantic Overlander offered the seat to Shadow, who took it without a word. Gerald could see that his chest was moving rapidly. He was frightened. He had never seen Maria in this state before. He needed to calm down. They all needed to.

"Shadow, can you calm your breathing?" the Chief Medical Officer asked.

"Right." he nodded. "Right. Sure." He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. After a few respirations, he opened his eyes and extended his arm.

Maestro took a small clipper from a shelf and turned it on, creating a small buzzing that filled the room. She drew it across a small portion of Shadow's arm close to the inside of his elbow. Porcelain white skin was revealed which was dabbed with the same anesthetic.

"Can you feel anything here now?" Maestro asked, gently putting a finger to the spot.

"No." Shadow said.

"Excellent. You can talk to Maria for a second if you wish."

"No, that's fine." he said, eyes on the shaved portion of his arm.

"Very well." The doctor said, taking the IV drip and slowly inserting it into Shadow's arm.

Shadow made absolutely no reaction to this as the tube was secured around his arm with tape. The second half of the tube was hooked up to a second bag on the IV stand. Within moments, wine-colored liquid moved from the tube to the bag. With each quick pump of Shadow's heart, blood began to fill the bag.

Gerald watched this as it unfolded. This entire procedure had been carried out on a hunch. A hunch that he felt confident about, but a hunch nonetheless. Shadow was a masterpiece of genetic engineering. In the months before his birth, he had been consistently been bombarded with radiation therapy, cellular manipulation, and surgeries that had been innovated simply to create him. He was the pinnacle of Overlander medicine and bioengineering. He was perfect. Even as the smallest cut was inflicted during the surgical processes, he had begun to heal. After every flash of radiation body had purged the cancerous cells. Only half the time they could explain it. The rest had been a mystery. His regenerative processes were simply miraculous. Gerald had considered naming him Lazarus because of this. Only recently had the idea to perform a transfusion occurred to the staff. If the genetic link between Humans and Mobians was close enough, and Shadow was closer than others, then perhaps, just perhaps, that regenerative property could be given to the littlest one that deserved it. Even if it was only a fraction of its donor.

A bag of Shadow's life-giving blood was now filled and waiting to be transferred.

"Noting for the record that this procedure is being carried out at... 0035 MegaCentral Standard Time." Maestro said. "I am now about to activate the two way transfusion process."

"Noted, ma'am." One of the technicians said, entering the information on a computer.

"Activating now." Maestro nodded, opening the seal on Maria's IV drip, stopping the nutrient drip and now accepting Shadow's blood.

It was a long shot, Gerald thought. It was a long shot, but this was the opportunity that they had been handed and had secretly wanted for longer than he wanted to admit. This was the chance. Maybe this was why Shadow was born. Not just to perhaps broker peace one day between the Overland and Frederic's kingdom, but perhaps save his little angel. She was so small in that bed, though she was so brave, watching her own blood flowing into a separate container to account for the new material coming in. Such a brave little girl, to look this sickness in the face and think nothing of it.

She was going to pull through this. She would become strong, and one day, and that day could very well be soon, she would run and play in that meadow she had drawn, and she would share it with a friend.


End file.
